Cinderella Shoes

My first year of teaching, he entered my fourth grade classroom on a first grade reading level and yet, by far, the biggest and oldest child in the class. 

His physical presence dominated but his smile and warmth melted anyone’s heart. 

Through services, he received free breakfast and lunch and it bothered him. 

I took to him like kindle to a fire and he, to me. 

There was a trust and bond that endured. 

So when this child who had nothing presented me with clear slippers three sizes too small for Christmas, I accepted them with gratitude. 

A child who saw me as his real-life Cinderella. 

A reminder that we are much more to others than we may ever realize.

If only we can continue to give with our hearts.

A gift I will always treasure. And never forget.


Hurricane

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Like, seriously.  What in the actual $*&% am I supposed to do.

A real hurricane is headed our way and yet, I already feel like I am in one.

How many fires a day can one firefighter endure before she needs a break?

So many little personalities, so many big needs.

The demands seem insurmountable.

Until I remember where I’ve been.

And how much more challenging it truly can be.

So, I cry.  I mourn my inability to juggle it all.  To feel like a “good” mom.

And I focus, instead, on what I do have.

A family.  A free country. Health. Resources.

I exhale.

And I begin again.